


A Different Kind of Absolution

by Mrs_SimonTam_PHD



Series: KinkTober 2020 [3]
Category: Prodigal Son (TV 2019)
Genre: Mentions of Aftercare, Punishments, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy psychology, absolution fantasies? Is that a thing?, bottom!Malcolm, fantasies, mentions of degradation, mentions of slapping, mentions of spanking, punishment fantasies, sub!Malcolm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:20:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27435733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD/pseuds/Mrs_SimonTam_PHD
Summary: Malcolm knew that his way of thinking was fucked up. He doesn't care, though.
Series: KinkTober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1953655
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	A Different Kind of Absolution

**Author's Note:**

> WHOA what a month!! Have some smut to cheer up from the election
> 
> I will be continuing to post things from my Kinktober Prompt List because October was... It was a rough month for me. So, please enjoy this Kinktober fic featuring: Masturbation
> 
> Also, LOOK, NEW FANDOM

There was something to be said about the fantasies of Malcolm Bright. The term “unhealthy” comes to mind. “Fucked up.” “Self-flagellating”. Things like that. 

As a former FBI profiler, Malcolm  _ knew  _ that his sexual kinks were deeply rooted in psychological issues. Such as having a serial killer for a father. One doesn’t have a parent like  _ that  _ and know that knowledge intimately and  _ not  _ have a few fucked up things about them. 

The main issue lied in, despite the knowledge and an understanding of those kinks, he didn’t care. At all. He loved it. 

Loved the ideas of being roughed up, slapped, kicked, spanked, made to cry, and fucked hard enough that he comes close to safe-wording out of the scene. He has yet to. 

He got off on these ideas, on these fantasies, of being made to take it, take the harshest punishments for the smallest of ‘infractions’, and craved it. 

It’s rare that he got that, though. Oh so rare. Being a consultant for the NYPD Homicide meant that he didn’t have a whole lot of free time. THere was always another body, another killer to catch, another interrogation to conduct, another profile to give. So, the majority of this physically and verbally abusive sex that he received was often the subject of masturbatory fantasies. He would spend months on a single in-person scene, dwelling on it, cumming with his own hand at the memories and the words dancing in his head. 

_ Look at this pretty boy. He looks like he’s going to be an eager little slut for me. Looks like I’ll have to change that.  _

_ Are you crying? Good, I like that. And I know you do, too. Look at how hard your little cock is. You better not cum before me, you fuckin’ whore. I’ll make you cry harder before the night is over.  _

_ You like being punished, don’t you, you little fuck toy? Well, it’s a good thing that my arm’s not tired, because you’ve got another 25 hits with my belt before your punishment is done… well, at least this part of it. We’ve got a whole night ahead of us, little dick holder.  _

These ideas and scenarios that he’d dwell on or come up with in order to get himself off were better than any porno that he could watch, better than any erotic short story he could read or listen to. Who needed that when the imagination and real life were so much better? 

Malcolm longed for it, begged for it internally every day. Almost needed it, especially because of what came after that. The aftercare. The being pampered, soothed, his tears dried and his pain attended to. Of being the focus of someone’s world and his every whim entertained. Of being told how good he is, how appreciated his efforts are, how much he is willing to give. 

_ There, there, sweetheart. It’s all over. I’m here. Can you drink some water for me, little one? There you are, you’re so good for me.  _

_ My, my, my, aren’t we cuddly? No, don’t go, I like it. We went hard today, anyways. I didn’t hurt you too badly, did I? Let me get some arnica for your ass. Breathe, baby. I’ll be right back.  _

_ You were… wow. Amazing. Awe inspiring. You’re so beautiful, baby. I can’t believe how good you were. Close your eyes, baby. Rest now. I’ll be here.  _

Malcolm knew his inner reasonings for why he wanted the dichotomous and ambiguous nature of the almost rape-like sex and the gentle aftercare, why he needed both in his sex life, but he’d never voice them. Not even to his wonderful therapist, or Gil (although Gil probably knew). 

Well, the after care he could. That was easy enough to explain. Really easy to explain. In the world of BDSM, it was vital to maintaining good mental health as a submissive. 

The fantasies? Well, as long as he knew why, it was okay and valid. Right? 

He knew that he should not be paying for the sins of his father. He knew that, believed that. 

But he felt like he was paying for them in every other facet of his life, so he may as well try to get some enjoyment out of them and use it as a method of absolution. 

Perfectly normal. 

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell
> 
> Twitter: @Alendra_Dragon
> 
> TikTok: @officerlucifer
> 
> Comments and Kudos are Shiny!!


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